


panthera onca

by alittleonedge



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittleonedge/pseuds/alittleonedge





	panthera onca

He knew she had been sent to spy on him. That’s what the Bureau had intended when they so graciously offered her the position. However, it’s not what he found her to be up to.  
She was much more apt at stalking than she was spying. Not the kind of creepy, serial killer stalking that made people jump for restraining orders. No, not like that at all. Stalking in a curious cat kind of way. Only, with the way her baby hairs curled around her temple, the way her cheeks bloomed, and the way her wide eyes rounded out when she lifted her brows she seemed on the surface more like a fluffy house cat than a creeping panther. But oh how he had grossly been caught unawares by her ability to slink around his life, around his files, around his mind at night when he pounded the asphalt beneath his feet. By the end of their first week together, she knew where he lived, what he liked to drink, when he went to run, and how the life long hurt of losing his sister to an alien abduction would haunt him and drive him more than any other forces in the universe combined.  
What she did with this information, he was unsure. It was like she tiptoed around, winding her long tail around his neck, brushing the tip of his nose —experimental flustering, a rustling of the crazy chicken’s feathers. But it wasn’t to rile and scare and then snatch. Instead, she teased out this information, and then took it back to her pen to bat at it like a ball, a chew toy, a play thing. To discover what it was and what it meant; to uncover who he was and what he meant. And she never really said what she thought about the things she pried from him and then chewed on. Sometimes, a month would go by before she would lazily roll her tongue and teeth around the things that made him up. But when she came to conclusions that she wanted him to hear, she said them with a controlled timber, like a true jungle cat with no hesitance in the vibrato of her roar.  
“You’re the only one I trust, Mulder.”  
He wondered who was supposed to be more thrilled by the chase: the cat, or the crazy chicken.


End file.
